Not Seven Times, but Seventy Times Seven

Jesus was asked how many times we should forgive our brother.  He answered not seven times, but seventy times seven.   Similarly, we might ask “Jesus how often am I to have faith in the toughest of days?”  He would say not seven times, but seventy times seven.

We learned yesterday that the adoption process here is again under scrutiny and, at least for a time, adoptions are again closed.  Today we had our last day with our 4 yr old son;  we are not sure when we will be invited to see him again.  I have faith.

The drive to the orphanage this morning was quiet.  We all just simply looked out the windows to the world outside.  To our left, across the open steppes of the valley, were the foothills of Kazakhstan.  To our right, the impressive snow capped Tien Shan Mountains, with their peaks at over 16,000 feet, following us all the way to the orphanage.

Once there, our son greeted us in the usual way.  We walked around to the back corner of the orphanage where his group’s playground is.  He has learned to look for us around the same time every morning.  When he sees us, he struts out the front gate and lets himself out with a smirk that tries to hold back a smile.

We then went to the old and worn out park just outside of the orphanage gates, and he enjoyed a yogurt, his favorite treat.  He sat in his mama’s lap contently, and from time to time pulled her curls over her eyes.  Later we sat him down with our interpreter, and explained to him we would not be there tomorrow, or the next.  We told him we needed to see a big man, and that he had to tell us when we could come back.  As he sat contently, he would nod his head in acknowledgement, but then would ask, are you coming back today?  No, we would answer.  This repeated itself several times.  He noticed Mama was crying, and her sadness seemed to help him understand a little better that today was different.

I recently learned goodbye has its roots in old English, from an abbreviation of: God be with ye.  We shared our final moments with him just outside his group’s play room.  He had just bathed and was only wearing underwear and the new sun hat we had given him.  We left our photo album with his nanny with pictures of us and his brother and sister and asked that she show it to him from time to time.   He hugged us, we told him we loved him.  He blew us a kiss and pulled the door shut...  … Goodbye.

The Good Shepherd

Today was a great day with our son.  As always he was so excited to see us.  His nannies gave him permission to leave his play group but not before instructing him to don his shlyapa (hat).  His hat was back in the room, so he tucked in his elbows, put his fists straight out, and took off running with a unique high step run that gets him where he wants to go very quickly.  He came back in a sort of strut wearing his cute little blue canvas hat with a short brim that goes all the way around.  We walked together, sat on a bench and played with play dough, and later, we let him enjoy a banana that we brought.

Being Sunday we were only allowed to stay half a day, so we took a drive through the countryside to get off the beaten path in this beautiful country.  While out I witnessed a young shepherd boy walking through grassland with dozens of sheep under his care.  It was as if time had stood still, and I was reminded of how, when the shepherd boy calls, the sheep know his voice and they follow him.

This led me to thinking about our son and this adoption.  He was born without a family to raise him, lost in this world.   It was not by his actions that led him to call on us.  Yet we are seeking him out, and desire with all our heart that he not be lost, but have a life with us.  A life so much better than the one he has now, parentless in a orphanage, that he cannot even comprehend, and cannot yet understand how deep our love is for him or how rich the blessings we desire to bestow on him.  Soon we will be like a shepherd to him, he will look upon us and know our voice, and we will call him by name, a new name that we have given him to signify his new life.

This helps me understand why Jesus refers to himself as the good Shepherd (John 10:11) and tells his followers they are adopted as his sons into the faith (Ephesians 1:5).  It is not by our actions, but a gift of God (Ephesians 2:8-9).  He is seeking us out and desires that we not be lost (John 15:3).  We cannot comprehend or understand what he has done for us (Romans 5:8) or how much he loves us (Psalm 36:5).  If you call on His name and believe in your heart, then He is our shepherd (Romans 10: 9-10) and will give us a new name (Revelation 2:17) and a new life (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Dear Jesus, thank you for our blessings and all our food, please help Owen to come home soon, Amen

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Ro 12:12

Before this quote from Romans, Paul tells us love must be sincere and devoted to one another.  As we have struggled over the last four years with this adoption, no one has modeled Paul's instructions better than our two children.  One small example comes every night, for the last four years, as we sit around the dinner table and hold hands for the blessing, one of them will offer up "Dear Jesus, thank you for our blessings and all our food, please help Owen to come home soon, Amen."

They have shared our joy and tears, and are celebrating alongside us even as we are required to be apart from them for so long.

When we go through trials our human nature screams "why". But in watching our children I am reminded that in all of these things we must greatly rejoice, though for a little while we have suffered grief, these trials refine our faith to be strong and bring praise, glory, and honor to our Lord, Jesus Christ.


Here am I, and the children the Lord has given me. We are signs and symbols in Israel from the Lord Almighty, who dwells on Mount Zion.  Isaiah 8:18

Cowboys Shoot Each Other, But They Don't Eat Their Horse

So the days now are all quite similar, and this is by design.  We are picked up at our hotel at 845am and driven to the orphanage.  We let ourselves in to the room where our son is around 10am, and he rushes into our arms all excited yelling Mamma, Papa!  We stay for two hours until lunch/nap time at 12, then we come back at 4pm and stay until 6.

So what does one do for four hours in a little town in the Kyrgyz Republic just across the border from Kazakhstan?  Go to Hawaii of course.  Hawaii is a neat little restaurant just outside of the village the orphanage is in.  It is quite touristy with a camel, some deer to feed, and a restaurant located on a man made lake.  My wife, ever the one to immerse herself in the cultural experience, decided to go for a local Kyrgyz ethnic dish...  you guessed it: horse and noodles!  So yesterday, she ate a horse in Hawaii.

Today, she's not feeling quite so good.  I told her to cowboy up and get back in the saddle... problem is, she ate the horse, so...  I'm not sure where you go from there. 

Cowboys shoot each other, but they don't eat their horse.  Today I opted for the grilled chicken, she had a ham and cheese sandwich.  :  )

I Want to go Far Far Away

There is a time for everything.  Today was a time to build up, to gather stones, to embrace, to seek, to keep, and to sew.

We made our first trip in four years to the orphanage today.  We were led to our son's group.  We recognized him right away.  Mama? Papa? He asked.  Yes we told him.  He jumped in our arms and gave us our first hug.  He was very proud of us and took us by the hand to lead us through the orphanage.  He led us to all of the workers to show them his Mama and Papa.

We spent the morning and afternoon playing with him.  He loves to do things on his own, but yet loves the attention we provide.  He told us several times he wants to go far far away.  Daleko, Daleko he would say.  It took us some time to figure out what he was wanting.  He was wanting us to take him away from here and to his home, far far away.

We told him soon.

Goodbye this afternoon was very tough.  He walked to the gate of the orphanage and announced he would go home.  We explained to him we would come back tomorrow.  He seemed hurt, but he put on a good strong face, no doubt built from a toughness that orphanage life brings that we will never understand.  A very Russian looking woman in a white coat called for him sternly.  He left promptly without a fuss, but not before giving Mama and Papa a big hug and a kiss.

Eggs.

Our hotel has breakfast that comes with the stay...
Waitress: "You here breakfast?"... 
Me: "yes"
Waitress: "eggs"
Me: "ok, cooked extra please?"
Waitress: "eggs"
So we had "eggs" that were seemingly cooked for the sole purpose of holding their shape.  Once this purpose was complete, all heat was removed and they were placed on a cold plate and handed to the Americans with the weak stomach.

After breakfast we rested after a long day of traveling to Bishkek via Istanbul.  Our only requirement today was the biggest of the trip: to go to the Ministry that governs adoptions and formally receive a referral for our son.  So much could go wrong.  The ministry might not receive us, they might delay us several days, or they might refer us a different child.

We showed up very nervous.  The building felt very Soviet, with stark, uncovered light bulbs and worn down marble steps.  In one end of the bare office sat a women representing the ministry, on the far other side we sat, awaiting our letter.  The translators sat in between.  She pulled out a letter that we could see had a blue ink signature and a colorful Kyrgyz letterhead.  She read.  We heard our name among the Russian words, then the only other words we could understand... his name.  Praise God. 

We have been referred our Son, we will see him tomorrow.  I'll eat a runny egg to that!

Sovereign Lord, Strengthen Me Once More

"Sovereign Lord, remember me.  Please, God, strengthen me just once more...". Judges 16:28

It has been four years since we made the promise "you are an orphan no more."  Today we are traveling again to Kyrgyzstan.  Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Yesterday we were filed down, pressed to the very soul with disappointment.  With less than 48 hrs before departure we were informed that the Ministry governing adoptions would not receive us.  Our home Bible group was that night.  How do we worship Him in the storm?  Please, God, strengthen me.  Daymen played, and we sang the words "you are my strength when I am weak...  you are my all and all." We worshiped.

Later we asked for prayer over the adoption.  The circumstances looked as if we may never get invited to re-do the first trip of three.  With Holly and Claudia on their knees in prayer and surrender, the phone rang: "trip is on, you need to be in Kyrgyzstan on Monday."

Please, God, Strengthen me just once more.